Don't Ask, Don't Tell
by Kitchyy
Summary: Roy didn't want to be here, he honestly didn't, but now that he is, he has found things out about one Fullmetal Alchemist that he never really meant to.


I hope you enjoy. Please note that I am a fan of constructive criticism. Please fill me in if you see something. I genuinely want to get better.

And of course, FMA is so not mine.

* * *

He was going to KILL Hawkeye.

If it wasn't for her putting that innocent little file on his desk instead of handing it over to Major Armstrong like he had asked, then he wouldn't have to be here. He wouldn't have had Hawkeye guffaw behind her cupped hand and help him 'dress appropriately' for the evening, and he wouldn't be in the location he was in. He could have been at home, listening to his favorite radio show, a glass of nicely aged scotch in his hand and ignoring the paperwork he had brought home for perusal. Instead here he stood, wearing a black tank top that looked like it was painted on and leather pants that looked as if they should have been worn by Fullmetal and not him.

The report was seemingly so innocent, and completely innocuous when unopened. But, as the commanding officer, he just had to open the thing. It turned out there was an Alchemist that had gone AWOL and had been creating a lot of problems for the military in recent weeks and the upper echelons of Military rule wanted him back for more than just questioning. When Mustang had found out the places he liked to frequent he could understand the reasons much more clearly. Little hole-in-the-wall clubs that had far too many men in them had been his favored destinations.

And of course, the report had the man's last 'questionable relationship' in the file as well, which had more than likely started the whole AWOL situation. The man had pale skin, dark hair and dark eyes. It made Mustang squirm in his seat when he saw the picture, and Hawkeye give a choked off giggle, which had the same effect of her rolling uncontrollably in fits of laughter right in the middle of his office floor. Personally Mustang couldn't care less if the man was gay or not. He had his experiences once or twice long ago before Hughes got married. But that was before the military, before he had decided that in order to create change, he had to play their game, and by their rules. Until he was in a position where he could change that at least.

He leaned back a little more into the support beam he had taken his post up on and took another swig from the bottle of beer he had ordered. He could see the entire bar from this location, as well as the front door. The man he was looking for - James Hillcomb, The Rising Sun Alchemist - made eye contact with him from across the room. Mustang gave a slow smile and inclined his head forward in invitation.

After a few minutes of across the room smiles and inviting body language the man got up from his seat to talk to Mustang. The man was in his late twenties approximately, with dark, curly hair, and piercing grey eyes. He wore a dark grey jacked over a white shirt and charcoal slacks. Whatever the man had been doing in recent history, his wardrobe had not suffered.

"Hey beautiful." The man said with a lazy smile as he leaned next to Mustang. The Colonel shook off the weird feeling in his stomach from being called beautiful by a man and smiled back.

"Could say the same thing about you." Mustang replied easily. He slipped his free hand into his pocket to check for his gloves and the little pill he would need to slip into the man's drink once he was distracted enough. He had some serious qualms about drugging the man but it was one of the easier ways to get him back to HQ quietly and unharmed. That, or get the man hopelessly drunk. Unfortunately, the second option left him a little worried that he would not be able to return without a few interesting handprints in specific places on his body.

The door to the bar opened and two male figures stepped through from the warm summer night. Mustang thought he recognized one of them but his attentions were brought back by the Alchemist beside him. He shimmied up closer to Mustang and gave him another smile.

"The name's James. I haven't seen you around here."

"You wouldn't. I just moved here from East City. The name's Warren."

"Well Warren, you want another drink?"

Mustang shook the bottle in his hand. There really wasn't much left in it. James pushed himself off the support beam to stand in front of Mustang. The man was taller than he had expected. He was at least two inches taller than Mustang himself and the Colonel hand to tilt his head up to give him another smile. "Sure."

James nodded and walked to the bar. The same moment he leaned over to get the bartender's attention Mustang heard a laugh that was strangely familiar. Why could he not place it? He tried to crane his neck so he could see all the occupants in the bar, but the later it got, the fuller the place became.

The idea that he could recognize laughter from one of the occupants made him sweat a little. No one but Hawkeye knew he was here. What if it was someone he knew? What if the person suddenly got the wrong idea and started talking to others within the military? He pushed the thought firmly aside. He knew many people outside of the military, and all of them were allowed to pursue any kind of relationship they liked. It was probably nothing.

James came back with two drinks, a tumbler with something clear in it, and another beer for Mustang. He accepted it with a smile and took a swig. It was different from what he had been originally drinking. It was darker, and the taste was much sweeter.

"What is this?" He asked.

James shrugged. "Cream ale. It's one of my favorites."

"I can see why." He took another swig, genuinely enjoying the brew. The man shimmied closer again and nodded towards Mustang.

"So what happened?" He asked with a pointed nod at his eye patch. He hated this question, mostly because it always brought up that fight and the life changing events that surrounded it.

"The wars. What else." He said tersely and took a long sip of his beer. The man nodded sympathetically but his eyes became sharp and assessing.

"They did a number on all of us. So you were a soldier?"

Mustang shook his head. "No, just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Shrapnel. But let's not talk about that. What do you do?"

There was that laugh again! It was bright and happy, light and sweet. Why the hell couldn't he place it! He was concentrating so hard on pinpointing the location and where he knew it from he missed the next thing the Alchemist said to him.

"It seems I'm boring you." James said with a frown.

"No it's not that at all."

"You keep looking around the bar like your searching for someone."

"I just keep getting distracted is all." Mustang replied. James leaned in closer and smiled devilishly.

"Well, _I_ could be your distraction." Mustang didn't have time to pull away as the man kissed him.

The only man he had ever wanted to kiss was long gone and he had put these emotions and feelings aside long ago. He didn't want this. But a job was a job, and he kissed the man back. He smelled like shampoo and cologne and he tasted faintly of the drink he had recently been sipping, some kind of vodka type drink, Mustang noticed when the man deepened the kiss.

His glass was almost close enough to drop the pill in it. All he needed was a second or two more and the job would be done. He lifted his hand; to the casual observer it would only look like he would be getting a little closer to the other man. Just a few more inches-

It was cut short when a choked "What the HELL?" tore through the entire bar.

"MUSTANG?"

Mustang pushed the other man back. He was pretty sure his jaw hung slack and was gaping wide eyed at his subordinate, but what the hell else was he to do in this situation? With what little brain power he had left he slipped the pill back into his pocket.

"What the hell are you doing here Ed?" Was he even old enough to be in a place like this? And who the hell was this redhead hanging off his right arm? His new flesh arm, Mustang noted. He was still amazed and a little awed that Ed was finally able to achieve his and Al's goal that they had been working so hard to achieve for the last half a decade. Those thoughts however, came secondary to the realization that the redhead hanging off Ed's arm was a guy, and not a girl.

_Ed was… Gay?_

"I thought your name was Warren?" James said sharply. Mustang closed his mouth with an audible 'click' and resisted the urge to grind his teeth together.

"It IS my name. Mustang's my last name." he replied flatly. James was looking suspiciously between Ed and Mustang, and he could see the wheels start to turn in the man's head. Distraction, Mustang thought. "I knew Ed when I was in East City. Right Ed?" He said with a piercing look at the youngest (gay) Alchemist the Military had ever enlisted. _Just play along and everything will be ok. I won't spill your secret, you won't tell anyone in the office about this, we won't have to kill each other, and I can bring this guy in without any further problems._

The young man looked taken aback, shocked even. His eyes were wide and bright, and a moment of worry passed though them at the sight of Mustang, his superior officer standing in a bar that clearly wasn't for picking up women, but he nodded carefully.

"Who is this guy? An old boyfriend? He looks kinda old." Mr. Redhead said with a sniff and tightened his hold on Ed. Honestly he wasn't THAT old! He was barely in his thirties. Ok, maybe for Ed he was a little out of his league, but still.

"Something like that." Ed replied cryptically. Mustang could see the moment Ed realized what was going on, and a wide smile pasted itself across his face. Mustang resisted the urge to slap his hand to his forehead.

"He seems a little young." James murmured to him. Ed did still look young. He was just over eighteen last time Mustang checked. Well, more like knew, since he was there for the frigging birthday party Al and Winry had thrown him three weeks ago.

"He's not as young as you would think." Mustang said with a careful glare at Ed. The blonde looked like he was actually enjoying this!

"It's true ya know. I was even able to teach this guy a thing or two." Ed said as he nudged his chin towards Mustang. _What the hell are you playing at Ed?_

"Not as much as I was able to teach you about." Mustang replied hotly. This was not a game. This was a mission in order to get this man back to Central. By the look on Ed's face he neither cared, nor was worried about it. He just kept playing up this stupid game of his.

Ed smirked. "We'll see. Maybe some time we could have a refresher course."

"You know Ed, it's a little rude to be hitting on someone who's already taken." James slipped a protective arm around Mustang's waist. Since when did he become a commodity? And a commodity between men?

Mr. Redhead seemed less than impressed. "C'mon Edward, let's get out of here. This place is a little too crowded for me." He said as he tugged Ed towards the entrance of the Bar.

"Yeah, no problem Paul. You have fun _Warren_." Ed replied with a wicked grin and turned around, but not before giving Mustang an appreciative onceover that left Mustang oddly blushing.

"Good Night Ed." Mustang growled. He wouldn't give the man the pill Hawkeye had given him before he left his apartment in order to get him to pass out; he was just going to drink. A lot. And make sure the other Alchemist kept up. If he stumbled through the doors of Central at 3 am reeking of booze with James, at least he would have a reason for it. One at least, that everyone else could understand. The other reason could be completely his to worry about.

"That's better, don't you think?" James asked. Mustang nodded tightly and tried to get back into character.

As the doors to the bar opened he heard Ed's voice shout loudly, enough for the entire bar to hear

"I forgot to warn you, He's a really pushy bottom!"

This time, Mustang did slap his hand to his forehead.

He also made a mental note to hand off all his paperwork for the next year to one Fullmetal Alchemist.

~FIN~


End file.
